Murder City

Chapter Six

6 || Billie Joe Armstrong

The strong strawberry smell of her shampoo fills the air, but I don't mind. 

The smell comforts me, in the same way a baby is comforted by their mother's presence. I need her. I need her arms around me, her fingers tracing over my tattoos. I need her soft lips against mine, the taste of her cherry Chapstick invading my taste-buds.

I need her. 

I've never felt such longing in my life. Feeling constantly on edge was never a feeling I enjoyed, but now, it feels as though I'm waiting for my wedding day. I shuffle in my seat, now slightly closer to her. I'm not listening to the presenters on stage, because I don't care about anything they have to say. I don't care about this award right now. All I care about is being closer to her.

My hand slips over her thigh, gently stroking my thumb against her tights. She squirms. I love the way her body reacts to me, the little smirk she does when she sees me, her face turning red when I kiss her. I love it all. 

I remember the first time we met. Fletcher practically dragged her inside my home. Most of our family came over. Which was a suprise, because Fletcher's dad and my mom never truly got along after the divorce. But, they kept it fairly civil. I see the smile she gave me every time I think about her. She came over to me, shook my hand, and after that night I wanted to never wash it again. I wanted her skin on mine once more. We spoke lots about myself, but every time I asked something about herself, Fletcher would force himself into the conversation, shifting it back to me or himself. 

I couldn't stop looking at her. The butterflies in my stomach soared every time she laughed, my heart would almost beat out of my chest every time she tucked her blonde waves behind her ear. I knew one I'd be hers. I knew all it took was waiting, waiting for the moment Fletcher pushed her over the edge. Waiting for the moment she saw how controlling he is. I waited until she realized he never loved her in the first place. And when the time came, I took my chances.

I sometimes regret kissing her. I wanted to get to know her first, to see what made her tick. But, the way her dress curved around her body, her lipstick staining her lips, her hair curled around her shoulders, I just knew If I didn't kiss her then, the opportunity would pass me by.

I felt her need to be loved when she latched onto my hair, pulling me further into the kiss. I felt all the tiredness, the hated, the suffering Fletcher caused just pour out of her body. She needs me as much as I need her. We both know that.

I wish she'd stop beating around the bush and just leave Fletcher. It'd be so simple to walk out, but she doesn't. 

I lean closer to her ear, the smell of her perfume making it near impossible to not kiss her. "Wanna get out of here?" I ask, she spins her head around and smiles, before nodding eagerly.

 I can't stand being in crowded spaces, and I hate it even more when the crowds get in the way of me and Aurora. I'm still waiting, even though we know how we feel about one another, without even expressing it in words, I'm still waiting for her to be all mine. I can't wait for the days when I can kiss her in public, and nobody bats an eye. 

That won't be for a long, long time. 

But I'd wait for the end of the world to be able to freely love her, to be able to truly call her mine.

We run down the long hallways, my hand intertwined with hers. We giggle, as if we're schoolchildren being chased on the playground. We run down the never-ending hallways, until I spot an opening at the side. I drag her inside the room. It's small, dark, and empty as if its never been used before.

Abandoned, in a building so full of life. 

I push her into the wall, uncaring of my forcefulness. I need her. Waiting is something I just cannot do in times like these. She understands. I see it in those cerulean eyes. I saw it, the night we first kissed, how much she needed appreciation. I saw the twinkle in them as I pulled away, breathing heavily. I saw everything fade once she realized who was just inside the building she was against. 

Kissing her deeply, I don't pull back. Not this time. Every time I pull away I feel as if she'll run back to Fletcher again, like a yo-yo, finding freedom for minor seconds, before being pulled back into itself. Sometimes, I wonder if this will last forever. But I try not to think about that. 

In a way, love is like death. It happens to everyone eventually, and it all ends eventually. Its just the when thats scary, and the feeling, or rather non-feeling, of never experiencing the life of it ever again. You think, "Did I spend enough time with them?" or "Did I waste the moments?" But you never did, you did what felt right in the moment. But is the present moment always the best thing to concentrate on? Is the future better to dwell on?

I pick her up, she feels lighter than I expected. I swing her around in a circle, before putting her down and kissing her again. She giggles. I wish I could record that sound, play it over and over again and tell people its my favorite song. 

"Ari?" I whisper, her nickname stuck to my lips. I've started calling her that since I came to her house less than a week ago, she always blushes uncontrollably. Even when we're talking to eachother on the phone, I can hear the blush forming across her face. As expected, she blushes, before parting her soft lips to speak. "Beej?"

"I love you." I whisper, the weight of the world being lifted off my shoulders. I've wanted to tell her that for so long, and now that she's practically mine, or atleast will be soon, I feel like now is the right time. The right time to tell her everything.

"I love you too." She whispers, an even harsher blush streaking across her face.

She's mine.

She's confirmed it.

And I'm hers. 

Forever.

No more obstacles. 

No more distractions.

Forever.

"I love you." I repeat.